


memento vivere

by fleet



Category: Winner (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Inception Fusion, Alternate Universe - Thieves, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-17
Packaged: 2018-05-27 07:41:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6275593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleet/pseuds/fleet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>even on good days, it doesn't matter that they're kings when they close their eyes; they're chasing after colored smoke like the dreamthieves they are. that's all there is to it.</p><p>on bad days, they're running out of time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	memento vivere

**Author's Note:**

  * For [triforce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/triforce/gifts).



> I HAD TO PUT SOMETHING UP, IT'S BEEN MONTHS SINCE MY ANGEL'S BIRTHDAY AND I STILL DON'T HAVE ANYTHING FINISHED TO SHOW. i mean this is not finished but, i mean,

At the academy, pretty much nobody thinks he could be anything other than the best student. Promising valedictorian, violinist. He’s got a smile like a dagger; quick to flash out, gone in a sword-swallowing trick.

 

But Taehyun isn’t pretty much nobody. He’s slim, bone and muscle stitched together into a self-assuredness that doubles for elegance. He fits everywhere like a shadow, and he doesn’t think that sort of thing about Minho. Taehyun _knows_ him. So they’ve got a private joke on, between just the two of them.

 

It goes like this: Minho should be in the circus.

 

-

 

“Sunny side up,” Taehyun grins, teeth knife-ish and bright white, as he slides the plate over. The eggs are burnt.

 

“Coal,” Minho says. “You’ve reduced it all to carbon.”

 

“We can’t have it all,” Taehyun shrugs, eating from Minho’s plate. “Besides,” he mumbles, mouth full. “It’s not half bad.”

 

Minho pushes off the table and makes for the window. The breeze shifts in his direction, and he squints against the wind a little. Down in the street, a figure walks with head bowed and heartbeat thudding so loud Minho can almost see it as well as hear it.

 

Taehyun stirs. “What’s the fucking drum.”

 

“You hear it too? This kid’s pulse, I think.”

 

“You mean we’ve got another?” The fork clatters.

 

The person in the street stills, then shivers.

 

“Dude,” Taehyun says, voice getting loud. “Don’t just _stand_ there, go and get him!”

 

The figure looks up and over his shoulder. Minho’s frozen to the spot for some reason, and the boy - he _thinks_ they’re a boy - stares at him. The heartbeat slows down a bit, but it’s still unbelievably fast. A hand comes up, in some kind of salute. Hesitantly, Minho raises his own.

 

“What the fuck,” Taehyun mutters, coming up beside him. “Who’s this geezer? Why’re you waving?”

 

Taehyun looks into the street, and there’s nobody there. But the heartbeat sounds just the same. Present, pressing.

 

“Okay,” Taehyun says, slowly. “I've changed my mind. You think we should run? Because this is really creepy is what this -- ”

 

The doorbell rings.

 

“Really _fucking_ creepy,” Taehyun emphasizes, ten shades pale already. “Minho, we’re on the seventh floor, _Minho_ , what the fuck -- ”

 

Minho’s jerkily making his way to the door, as if on autopilot. Taehyun grabs his hand. Minho stops, turns to look at him.

 

“Listen,” Taehyun hisses, at the same time Minho says, “I --”, at the same time the doorbell rings again.

 

The heartbeat notches lower, slower, a little more confident and a little less scared. Taehyun swallows.

 

“It won’t hurt, right?” Minho asks, quiet, but they both know it isn’t a question.

 

“Could be the circus,” Taehyun warns, but he drops Minho’s hand and backs away to the kitchen.

 

“Could be.”

 

Minho opens the door.

 

A boy stands in front of him, more big eyes than anything else, shivering in his jacket with a satchel slung over his shoulder.

 

The heartbeat booms in his ears for a moment, so loud that it’s dizzying. The kid takes a deep breath, visibly trying to calm himself.

  
“Hello,” he says, shaky. His voice is light and strange, somehow familiar.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> / this has been laying around for months... i have more of it but it's all disjointed and i don't know what's happening. hopefully more in the summer??  
> / so _perhaps_ i was high on pynch and considered an au and then thought, no, wait, let me put it down another way. cue igab_snsd.mp3 dubstep. MAYHAPS


End file.
